C H A P T E R T W E N T Y
OFFICE HOURS
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"So, Patricia makes coffee in the morning, but for the sake of your taste buds, I'd recommend picking one up on your way here and just pouring it into a mug. Patricia's a sensitive lady and it's a delicate ecosystem we maintain here at the Sentinel." Josh Nolan, my new boss, joked as he showed me more in depth around the office and explained the ropes to me. "Oh, and by the way," He started, motioning towards the dark emerald green skirt suit I was wearing with a flattering white blouse, "we're pretty casual here, so you don't have to worry about dressing up so much. It's a good color on you, though. Brings out your eyes. Now, this is what we like to call our Idea Board."
The quick talking man had brought me to a large whiteboard in the hall near his office. the board was covered in dozens of ideas in various handwritings. Random pictures and articles from the Sentinel's own newspapers also dotted the board with personal notes like 'follow up?'.
"Finally, this is your own little corner of the world." Josh introduced, leading me to an empty desk within the busy building. There was a simple black cup of pens, a dark blue office chair, and a Mac computer on the surface of the wooden desk. "Feel free to decorate all you'd like," Josh suggested as I picked up a couple of the pens from the cup on the desk. They were white and read 'Starling City Sentinel' on the side, "but due to pass incidents, I'd recommend you avoid the use of hot glue guns or mass quantities of rhinestones."
I chuckled, but then quickly realized Josh wasn't laughing as well. "Oh, you were serious," I said, cutting off my amusement. He kept a straight face until the corners of his lips tugged into a smile.
"Don't worry. I'm messing with you. But honestly though, no hot glue guns or rhinestones. Or lava lamps. Gina's still partially blind. Okay, so as far as deadlines go, we're pretty lenient. Here, we like to focus on quality, so if a story isn't up to Sentinel standards by the original publication date, we'll push it back a few days. It's a privilege, don't abuse it. But I have a suspicion I won't have to talk to you about that ever."
"Thank you so much, Mr. Nolan. I'm really excited to start working." I said gratefully and Josh flashed one of his signature smiles of straight, bright white teeth.
"And I'm excited to see what you've got. And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Josh? Literally everyone in this office does." Josh teased. "Now," he said, pulling the rolling desk chair out from the desk. "Care to give it a spin?" He offered, motioning towards the chair. I obliged, sitting in the abnormally comfortable office chair. I looked at Josh and he drew a circle in the air with his finger. I snickered, shaking my head as I amused him by turning the chair in a quick circle. "Nice, right?"
"I can honestly say this chair is nicer than 90% of the seating in my apartment."
"Good. Now, I wanted to talk to you about your articles. Have you been working on anything?"
"I have, actually. An article on the Chinese Triad." I told him and he raised an eyebrow.
"The Triad? I thought you were tackling the Hood?"
"I think the Hood is somehow linked to the Triad. Also, we have to come up with something better to call him. 'The Hood' sounds like a shady drug dealer in an old ripped up hoodie, and 'the Vigilante' is a little tired."
Josh smiled widely. "Alright," he accepted, "What do you suggest?"
I had to think a moment. I wasn't expecting him to ask me immediately, but I sat contemplating. I remembered my brief meetings with the Hood. I recalled his silhouette and the deep octave of his gruff voice. He wore the classic green leather hood and a painted-on mask, but what about his bow and arrow?
"The Arrow." I finally suggested. "It fits his M.O. It's what makes him so unique. He uses a bow and arrow rather than a gun, or something else. A bow and arrow is a precision weapon that takes years of training to master. He doesn't want any glory, but what if we poke the bear with a stick and give him the glory? The Arrow." I rambled in a grand soliloquy. Josh had nodded along the entire time and when I finally finished, he smirked.
"I knew I made the right choice choosing you to cover the Vigilante... or Arrow."
"Wait, there were a lot of other people wanting to write about the Hood?"
"Karter," He chuckled, rolling my chair back and turning it so I was facing the entire office staff. "Close your eyes and point." He whispered sarcastically. "Everyone here wants to write about the Hood."
"Everyone?"
"Of course! This has been the biggest news in Starling City since the Queen's Gambit went down! There has been a constant line of people coming in and out of that door wanting to write about this vigilante guy. But fortunately for you, none of them are pretty redheads that marched in that door and demanded to cover the stories right off the bat." He teased. "I knew I made the right choice hiring you. You're a smart woman, Karter. Now. The Arrow. I like it. Use it." Josh decided, pushing himself off the edge of my desk. "You know, it kind of sounds like a superhero name, actually."
He was right. 'The Arrow' did sound like a superhero name, and that was exactly why it was perfect for my agenda. It was time to start putting the hooded vigilante in the spotlight, but not as a homicidal villain. He wasn't evil. He was righting the wrongs of this city and ridding it of the real criminals.
The Arrow was the hero of Starling City. He had already saved dozens of people within his random arrival to the city. It was time that Starling City saw him as what he truly was. Not a criminal, or a villain. As a hero.
Oliver's POV:
Karter had just left for her first official day of work at the Starling City Sentinel, which made me nervous. I had been keeping close tabs on her for the last few days since the Chinese Triad attempted to kidnap her, but I was yet to set up any sort of surveillance near the office building. When she was at work, I wouldn't be able to look out for her.
There was also the matter of her new boss: Josh Nolan. I had never heard the name before, but then again, it might not have even been his real name. Nolan had been so eager to hire Karter. Katie was an amazing writer and journalist, but I didn't think newspaper editors recruited so persistently. I didn't trust him. I had to dig up as much as I could to know if Katie was going to be in danger working with him.
In the basement under my father's old factory, I straightened up an arsenal of green tipped arrows before sitting in front of the computer set up on a silver desk. I had quickly caught myself up on the technology I had missed over the last few years and was now familiar.
In a search engine, I typed Josh's name. The first results were articles he had written. They were basic news: a car accident, a house fire, the death of a long-time Starling City resident. All the articles were from several years ago. He must have taken over managing the newspaper several years ago since it seemed he had stopped writing.
I searched through the next few links. These were articles written about him rather than by him. These articles didn't bear much fruit. One was about him taking over the chief editor position, another was about an award he had been presented by the mayor.
I couldn't find anything on this Josh Nolan guy, but I still had an uneasy feeling about him. From next to the computer keyboard, I picked up the leather-bound journal my father had left me when he died. I scanned through the list of names, some of which I had crossed out myself, both on paper and in the physical world.
Once again, I was let down. I couldn't find Josh Nolan's name on the list my father had left me of people to cross out. Clearly, to find anything on this guy, I'd have to dig deeper. Though it wasn't my first choice, I'd have to recruit help.
I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair and slipped it on over my blue sweater and left the base, sealing it behind me so no one else would stumble upon the top-secret headquarters. I had ditched Diggle several hours ago and was able to openly walk to my motorcycle.
At the Queen Consolidate office building, I took the elevator to a specific floor I had in mind and stepped out into a floor of cubicles and small offices. I walked down the aisle in the center of the floor, scanning the nameplates until I found the specific name I was looking for.
"Felicity Smoak?" I said calmly, startling the woman sitting in the cubicle. She jumped, pulling the pen she had been chewing on away from her lips, which were covered in a bright pink lipstick. She was dressed in a pale pink button-down shirt and black skirt. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and she wore rectangle framed glasses.
"M-mr. Queen?!" She stuttered, clearly still startled. "Y-yeah, I'm Felicity Smoak..."
"I was hoping you could help me with something?"
"O-of course! Anything for you Mr. Queen!" She rambled awkwardly.
"Please, Mr. Queen is my father. Call me Oliver."
"Right. Mr. Queen is your father. Your dead father. You're not dead. Clearly. Or else... you wouldn't have been able to come down to IT... and listen to me babble... I'm sorry, what did you say you needed?" She said, flinching at her own stammering.
"I didn't, yet." He started. "I was told you were the person to talk to if I needed to find something on a person."
"Like... dirt?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, I guess."
"And, uh, who would you need dirt on?"
"A guy named Josh Nolan. He's the chief editor for the Starling City Sentinel."
"The newspaper? Why would you need information on an editor of a newspaper? I mean... if you don't mind me asking..." She added quickly.
"I've heard some rumors that he's been looking into Queen Consolidated. I thought knowing if he's involved with any... suspicious characters, that it might help me understand what his intentions with the company are. Just some routine housekeeping to look after my father's company. You know. The dead one?" I added and she wrinkled her nose at her accidental mention of my father's death earlier. "What do you say, Felicity? Will you help me?"
She thought for a moment, hesitating.
"What was the name again?"